Under the Bright Lights of Bridgeport
by Augustine May
Summary: Sisters Colleen and Bridey come to Bridgeport seeking fame, oppertunity, and the chance to show the world what they're made of. Will they rule the town, though, or will the town rule them?    Based on The Sims 3, Late Night.
1. Prologue: Arrival

"Well, this is it." Colleen McLeod surveyed the studio apartment with apprehension. It was far smaller than she'd expected, with flattened carpet and barely three feet between the bed frame and the couch. From her stance at the doorframe she could make out chipped paint on the windowsills, counters in the kitchenette that appeared to be sticky and stained, and a large, rather disconcerting stain by the TV.

She let her bags drop, accepting the finality. Really, she should have checked the place first. She should have known better than to trust –

"Yoo-hoo!" With a few grunts and a solid thud, another body burst in. Fair, white-blonde hair tumbled clumsily to the girl's thin shoulders. Her muscles were clearly defined through her tight, cropped shirt, and a hint of her lean abdomen peeked from beneath her red crop top. Freckles decorated her thin, muscular frame and dotted seductively along her uneventful chest. Her eyes were bright with wonder, her mouth puckishly upturned.

"It's a bit small, Bridey, don't you think?" Colleen questioned. Though only two years stood between herself and her sister, it seemed as though they were a decade apart. Colleen's dress was conservative, and her pale tank-top kept well hidden the ample bosom that surged beneath its satiny folds. Her high-heels dug into the matted carpeting, and her exposed toes twitched as though she wanted to tap her foot impatiently. While Bridey crossed the room lithely, her arms swinging out and hips swaying, Colleen held herself coiled as tightly as her reddish-brown bun.

"It's not the size, it's the view." Bridey pried open a window and a breeze stirred her hair. "We're 17 stories up – you can see the whole city. Plus, we're close to everything important – the studio for you, the stadium for me. There's a gym on the corner, a bookshop-coffeeshop-something-else-shop complex across the street, and a very cute neighbor boy somewhere around here."

While her sister leaned out the window, Colleen chided herself. Yes, Bridey was irresponsible, reckless and oftentimes ridiculous – she was also nineteen. In her constant disgust with Bridey's immaturity, Colleen often forgot how brilliant her little sister could be. They wouldn't be in the apartment long enough to miss the space of home, but they _would_ be wandering around the city enough to appreciate its proximity to all the hotspots, stores, and perhaps even cute neighbor boys.

"I would appreciate a book about now." Colleen said softly. Despite herself, she was already beginning to miss the hills of Sunset Valley.

Bridey looked over her shoulder. "Well I would appreciate a cute boy. Race you downstairs!" She spun on her heels and sped out of the room, all in a motion that was surprisingly graceful for such a careless girl.

Colleen smiled to herself, locking the door and flicking off the lights before exiting slowly, purse over her shoulder. She paused in the hallway to glance out the window. "Look out, Bridgeport," she whispered, scanning the city in the fading sunlight. "Here we come."


	2. Excellent Beginnings

**A/N: **Sorry this update took so long! I had an entire storyboard planned out, and it went through the washer, so I had to re-figure the storyline. Hope you all enjoy, and thanks so much for the reviews. I promise, the next update with probably be within the week .

Colleen carried the coffee steady in her hand. It was only her second morning on the job, and already she would be bringing a drink to Matthew Hamming himself. How had she gotten so lucky?

As she tiptoed up to his trailer, she noticed that her hands had begun shaking, threatening to spill the coffee everywhere. She knocked on his door, praying that she wasn't disturbing him. After a moment, he answered.

"Hello?" She had noticed yesterday that no one here was really as 'pretty' up close as she had suspected. Emmy Star had wrinkles, Tiara Angelista's roots were showing (and had she put on a little weight?) and even Devon Ashton, who had appeared in one or two commercials, wasn't as good-looking as she'd suspected. So, of course she was shocked when Matthew Hamming answered the door, looking just as suave as his did on her television screen.

"Hi. Hello." She corrected herself, still startled and shook up and altogether nervous. "I was told to bring your coffee." She held up the cup like a peace offering, and he smiled, opening the door wider.

"Sure, sure. Come on in, take a load off." She was so startled by the smoothness of his voice that she didn't understand what he meant. He motioned for her to come into the trailer and, shocked, she stepped in.

It wasn't much to look at, just the same sort of motor-home you'd see anywhere else, only there was no kitchen or anything – just a dressing-room area, a living-room area, a bathroom and a bed at the far end. He sat on the couch, and welcomed her to sit beside him. At last, he took the coffee from her, and took a tentative sip. Seeing that it wasn't hot, he took a deeper gulp, then another.

"So, what brings you to the Bridgeport? I don't think I've seen your face around – and I would have remembered it." He grinned confidently, and she blushed.

"My sister and I just moved here from Sunset Valley. She's actually going to be playing for the Llamas – I'm very proud of her." Colleen smiled. Bridey _was _an excellent soccer player, and she _was_ proud of her – and currently grateful to her for supplying conversation fodder. She was surprised at herself, and how giddy she was, sitting beside Matthew. She'd never been into boys during high school, had been too preoccupied with books, films, scripts. She wanted to write screen plays, maybe even one day be a director. Film could be so much more than just vapid romantic comedies, and she felt that she could be the kind of director to bring film back to its true purpose – a mirror of the human condition, reflecting us and showing our true nature.

Matthew smiled. "You should be. That's a very prestigious honor – some huge names are on that team. Moxie Logan, Big Hartley, Richie Striker – all of them play for the Llamas. Do you know what position she's playing?"

Colleen shook her head. "I'm sure she'll be lucky if she gets to play at all. She was starter for the team back home, but I know Richie's the starter here. Bridey hasn't shut up about him – she idolizes him."

Matthew nodded. "So, perhaps this sounds kind of sudden, but I'm sure I know why you're delivering my coffee today instead of helping with the lights – my personal assistant just quit. He, uh," Matthew looked away, his expression darkening momentarily. "He had some personal issues to work out. It's a shame, really. But, I would like it very much if you would be my personal assistant."

Colleen's mouth fell open. "Me? Really? I mean, it's only been my second day, and-"

Matthew shook his head, cutting her off. "Really, there's not much to know. I'll need your cell phone number, and you'll need mine. You bring my coffee, my scripts, my food, you'll probably help me pick out my outfits. I might bring you to the occasional red-carpet affair. Basically, if you accept this job, you'll be spending the better part of your day, every day, with me. So think long and hard before you accept – it's a lot of responsibility."

Colleen felt her heart leap into her throat. "I accept."

Bridey jogged off the field and toward the showers. Moxie Logan, the only other female member, had already showered, and so she had the whole locker room to herself.

_What a day._ She already felt rejuvenated, alive. The warm-up itself has been enlivening, but the practice session was intense. She hurt in places she didn't even know contained muscle, and she was more than a little proud of the way she'd scored against Big Hartley (who didn't take it personally) during pair-ups. There were a few nobodies who would be benching for the Llamas, but she felt as though she might be able to prove herself, and actually earn some field time.

Finished rinsing off, she wrapped a towel around herself and headed to her locker. _Her _locker. Sure, it was next to all the other nobody-lockers, but it was hers. She was on the Bridgeport Llamas, the major leagues, and she had her own locker, and her own uniform, with her name and numbers on it.

She was dressed and headed out of the stadium when a voice behind her, deep and luxurious, called out – "Hey, Blondie!"

Bridey turned. She was the only girl from the minors, and the only blonde girl on the whole damn team. And, sure enough, the person calling out to her – Big Hartley – smiled when she turned around.

"I hope you're not heading home so soon. A couple of us are going back to my pad to get a soak in the hot tub, ease our muscles for tomorrow." He smiled, flashing his bright, white teeth.

Bridey stopped, waiting for him as he walked slowly toward her. "Well, I'll have to check my agenda," She began, smiling flirtatiously, "But I think I can fit it in. Where is this pad of yours, anyway?"

Big threw an arm over her shoulder. It was heavy, and her small frame nearly buckled below the weight. "Tom Wordy's place. He's got this nice pad with his girl Sugar, and Lil' Bling – you heard of him?"

She had. The kid wasn't even out of high school yet, and already his album was platinum. "Sure. All the freshest beats, all the sickest rhymes."

Big laughed, a deep, booming noise that almost startled her. "You're alright, Blondie." He said, smiling as his car pulled up. He gestured for her to get in first, the followed, sliding close to her. In the confines of the car, his closeness unnerved her, but she would never let on. She was in Bridgeport now, and if this was how she got to the top, so be it. Richie Striker had a kid, a life – he couldn't be starter forever, and getting in with his friends might get her a better spot on the team. Plus, Big was nice, and charming – and cute. He'd dropped a lot of weight since joining the team, and he was looking great.

Bridey smiled coyly. "Yeah? You're pretty alright yourself."

Colleen startled as the door creaked open. She watched Bridey, ghostly white in the starlight that shone through the windows, creeping in. Colleen rolled toward the nightstand and picked up her alarm clock. 3:15. She sat up.

"Bridey, it's three in the morning. Where the hell were you?" Her voice was sharp, loud in the silence.

Startled, Bridey dropped her duffle bag. In it was her uniform, her cleats, plus the underwear and bra she'd been wearing. When it had been time to go, she'd barely had time to throw her clothes over the swimsuit Big had given to her. She'd been shocked to see how quickly the party ended, and to find herself not in a cab, but riding the subway back home with the swimsuit soaking through her jeans and silk top. Now she was shivering, tired, and maybe still a little buzzed.

"Tom Wordy's place. Big had a private party there, with me, Moxie Logan and Richie Striker. It was a really big deal, Coll." She watched her sister's expression as she tentatively headed into the kitchenette, looking through the fridge. There was some leftover autumn salad, and she pulled that out, grabbing a fork and picking through it. After a few bites she set the plate down, peeled off her wet clothes, and continued to eat in her swimsuit.

Colleen slid out of bed. The swimsuit Bridey wore wasn't hers – it was way too expensive. The white monikini's front was lined with loops that appeared to be plated in real gold. "Where'd you get the suit?"

Bridey smiled through a mouthful. "Big let me have it. He has some spares at his place for the hot tub, and he said he doesn't know any other girls this tiny, so I might as well keep it."

Colleen smiled. She wanted to be mad at Bridey, but her sister's excitement was too contagious. Besides, she knew the only reason she was really mad was that she'd been waiting all afternoon to tell Bridey how excited she was about being Matthew's personal assistant.

"So….are you and Big Hartley an item now?" Colleen smiled. _Gods_, this was so cool. She'd never been into the whole celebrity obsession thing, but it made her feel like somebody to be so involved with their lives, brushing shoulders with such big names. The more involved she and Bridey got with the town, the closer she felt she was to actually being somebody – somebody who mattered.

Bridey laughed, shaking her head. "No, no. We flirt, but it's nothing serious – we're co-workers. Plus, I think maybe he and Moxie have a thing? It's hard to tell. Everyone in this town is so flirty." She smiled to herself, though. Just the fact that Big thought she was beautiful – and he'd told her that tonight, while mixing her a drink at his bar – meant a lot to her. Sure, she'd heard it before, but never from someone so important. Coming from Big, who could have any girl he wanted, it really _meant _something.

"So, guess who got a promotion today?" Colleen asked. Now that she was up, she fixed herself a cup of tea. It's not like she had to be to work early, like back at home. Here, she could afford to be up late.

Bridey looked up from her food, grinning. "Already? It's your second day, and you're already getting promotions? What are you now, assistant to the assistant of the lighting guy?"

Colleen laughed. Bridey had a point – it did seem impossible to get anywhere in the hierarchy of film. "No, no. I'm Matthew Hamming's personal assistant now – I've got a beeper and everything." She grinned.

Bridey squealed. "Oh, my god! That's so awesome! How did that even happen?"

"Well," Colleen began, curling her hands around the warm coffee mug. She smiled excitedly as she began the story, telling each detail to her sister's eager eyes. Inwardly, she was shaking with excitement. They'd been here less than a week, and already, she felt like somebody.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I agree….Colleen is a little dramatic, but hey, that's why she's in film. ;)

"I can't be late. Coll, where are my spikes?" Bridey flurried around the room. It was a Saturday morning, and Colleen had been fast asleep before Bridey started whirling around the room, gathering paraphernalia for her game.

"Have you checked the bathroom cupboard?" Colleen called from beneath a heap of blankets. She was worn to the bone from the past two weeks of being Matthew's assistant. He hadn't been kidding when he said it would be grueling – sometimes it felt like 'personal slave' would be a more accurate title. She did enjoy spending time with him, but now that the sheen of his stardom failed to thrill her, she was beginning to resent the way he constantly had her running around. She'd already memorized the city's subways while getting him specialty coffee, bagels and the like, and it seemed like he was constantly in need of a hand massage, or a back rub. Sure, she liked being able to put her hands all over Matthew Hamming, but at times it seemed almost degrading.

"Why would shoes be in the bathroom?" Bridey called. _She _at least was having luck. Today, she was playing her first actual game. She'd only been put on the defensive line, but it was better than nothing. It wouldn't be long before the coach realized that with her energy and stamina, she belonged on the front lines, assisting – and scoring – goals. But, Big was the team's goalie, so Bridey working that end of the field just meant that his affection for her was growing.

Colleen shuddered. She didn't like Big. She couldn't say what it was exactly, there was just something about him that threw her off. Maybe the way he kept giving Bridey things, or the way he never had a 'girlfriend', just a few girls (never just one) who he flirted with. He seemed into Moxie Logan, Bridey, and maybe even Sugar, Tom Wordy's girl. He spent so much time hanging around Bridey, inviting her to things – it was obvious he wanted something from her. Bridey was only nineteen, and so easily impressed. She was eager to fit in, and Colleen knew that if Big asked her to do something, she would do it, no question.

"Oh, my gods. You were right!" Bridey came out of the bathroom stuffing the spikes into her duffle bag. "Alright, I've got a game to win. Go llamas!" Without another word, she flitted out the door.

Colleen lay in bed for another hour, hoping she could get back to sleep. She had perhaps finally achieved a dreaming state when her beeper went off, shattering her reveries. She rolled over, pulling her cell off the nightstand, and called Matthew.

"Colleen?" He sounded worried, nervous. A wave of pity overcame her. "You're not busy, are you? I've got a meeting with some lawyers, and I'd really appreciate it if you could come with me."

She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. "No, I'm not busy. I'll be over to your place in half an hour, okay?"

He sighed loudly, and she could hear the relief in his voice. "That sounds great. You're the best, Colleen." He hung up, and she slipped out of bed, running over to her dresser and trying to find something professional-looking that didn't need to be ironed.

"So…did you actually do it?" Colleen asked, watching Matthew's face as it twisted into an angry expression.

"No, I didn't. Why would I sexually harass my _male _personal assistant?" The question hung in the air a moment.

Colleen shrugged. "I was just asking." She looked to Matthew's lawyer. "So, what's the game plan?"

The lawyer shuffled a few papers. "Well, I think we need to fight this aggressively. First, Matthew, you need to make it official with one of your flings. Or, just be caught kissing a girl in public – but make it look like a secret tryst. We're going to take him to court for slander, we're going to fight the allegations, and most importantly, we're going to clear your name. No one is going to believe you came on to him – you're Bridgeport's biggest playboy. We just need to show that you want to change, win them over."

Matthew nodded. "Right, right. I just…gods, I need a drink. This is the worst part of being famous – everyone wants in on your cash _and _your name. You can never tell who is in it to help, and who is just out for a piece of you." He ran a hand through his perfect hair and glanced over at Colleen, who couldn't take her eyes off of him.

He was so stressed, so tense. She understood how awful the situation was, but still – shouldn't he be used to this by now? He'd been a child star, then a teen star, and was now an adult success. Wasn't he used to the limelight, its ups and downs by now?

This whole situation was weird, too. Why would his former personal assistant accuse him of sexual harassment if it wasn't true? Who would believe that, anyway? Her mind drifted to Devon. They had plans for that night – dinner, a movie. It wasn't a date, seeing as Devon was dating the cute guy Bridey had seen that first day in their building, but she was still excited. Devon was turning out to be a good friend, and he had the best sense of color combination.

When the meeting was finished, Matthew wanted to grab coffee – and, of course, he wanted Colleen to go with him. She rode with him in his car to a small coffee shop, the more expensive one in town – she and Bridey had been grabbing quick cups from a cheap corner vender, as they couldn't afford this stuff. She sat across a table outside with him and savored the rich creaminess slowly. There was a _reason _this stuff was so expensive – it was completely delectable.

"So, big plans for the weekend?" Matthew asked. She studied his face as she finished swallowing. He had thick, dark lashes that accentuated the clear quality of his ocean-blue eyes. He was any woman's dream, from his perfectly sculpted body to his strong jaw line, perfectly quaffed hair, hand straight white teeth. What always surprised Colleen, though, was the uncertainty that lay so deep beneath all of that polished exterior. You had to dig deep, but once you got there, it was almost overwhelming. The man she was coming to know was so insecure, unsure and cautious.

"None, really. Devon and I are going to a movie and dinner. Her red lipstick had left a dark print against the sky-blue of the coffee shop's mug. It wasn't really her lipstick, it was Bridey's – and, weeks ago, she wouldn't have worn anything that wasn't neutral, or a soft pearly pink. Devon had encouraged her, though, and she had to admit she liked the way it played with her skin's creaminess and her dark hair to create a smokey, mysterious look.

Matthew nodded. "Devon. He works at the studio, doesn't he? I swear I've seen him."

Colleen smiled. She was proud of Devon – he was going to make a great actor, when he finally got there. "He's one of the production managers of a smaller sitcom, but he's being considered for a role in 'Bite My Heart'. I swear, these vampire television shows are so _mundane_, but everyone seems to love them."

"Yes, well sex sells, and vampires have that dangerous sensuality to them. Glowing eyes, dripping fangs…delightful creatures, they just sort of suck you in. And Bridgeport has one of the highest concentrations of vampires in the country, so it doesn't surprise me. They fascinate people."

Colleen choked on her coffee when she heard this. "You mean…you mean they're _real_?" Vampires were like mummies, or boogeymen. They weren't real, and they certainly weren't in her town.

Matthew smiled knowingly. "Yes, very much so. I've dated a few vampires myself….they're insatiable." He paused, then look at her, his eyes probing. "So, this Devon…have the two of you been dating long?"

Colleen smiled and shook her head. "No, no. We're very good friends, but we're not…compatible. I'm not his type." She laughed a little at herself. She might be Devon's type – if she were a man.

Matthew took a sip of coffee, then grinned again. "Well, he's missing out, then."

Colleen felt a familiar fluttering in her stomach and suddenly, she wasn't so upset about being awoken so early on a Saturday morning.

Bridey pushed the hair out of her face and grinned. The club was packed full of people but she, Big, Richie and Moxie had slid right past the crowd, and were now brushing shoulder's with Bridgeport's biggest names – Lola Belle and her beau, Elspeth Cooke and her boyfriend Jett, and Emmy Starr, to name a few. She couldn't believe that she was here, at the Brightmore, partying in the VIP section – and yet, she and her teammates were headed for the more exclusive section, sliding yet again behind that velvet rope as though they'd done it a thousand times. For the others, that very well may have been true, but for Bridey, this was all very new – and thrilling.

"Get you a drink?" Big offered, looking her up and down. She'd chosen a short red halter that made her cleavage look far more impressive than it actually was. She fell into a cushioned booth across from Moxie and Richie, and nodded to Big, who sauntered to the bar.

Nervously, she surveyed the room. Behind a screen was a bubbling hot tub, and she watched it apprehensively. She hadn't brought a swimsuit – who thought there would be a hot tub in a bar? Maybe she should have planned better. She wasn't even wearing a bra, so it wasn't as though she could just slide in wearing her undergarments. Her breath caught in her through as Big came back – his glances at the hot tub indicated clearly that he planned to be in there by the end of the night.

She wasn't sure she liked how flirty they'd been, or the way he put a hand on her thigh as he slid next to her and handed over the pink drink. They'd only been a Bridgeport a few weeks, and she wasn't sure she wanted to get involved with one man. Plus, she was nineteen, and he was twenty-five. It wasn't a huge difference, but sometimes it seemed like too large a gap to cross.

"Man, that was a good game. We totally squashed the Rangers – great playing on all of your parts." Richie offered, raising his drink in a toast. They all clinked glasses, and took deep drinks.

Moxie grinned at him. "Spoken like the Captain of the team, Rich." She took another sip of her drink, and Bridey frowned.

"Wait. But isn't Lehighton Sekemoto the Captain?" She noticed Richie's arm around Moxie's shoulder, and bit her lip. Richie was married, with a son and another kid on the way. He wouldn't cheat on Stella, would he? And wasn't Big sort of into Moxie? She knew he flirted with her, but she figured all the flirting she and Big did was just play, and that he was actually after Moxie – it had been in the papers before she came to Bridgeport.

"Yes, but he's going to take the coach position, and I'm hoping to become Captain." Richie explained patiently.

Bridey nodded, now embarrassed. "Oh. I didn't realize he was getting so old. He moved out of Sunset Valley to go play for the Llamas when I was in grade school, but still."

Richie shrugged. "It's a long time to be Captain, especially when there are so many good player waiting for the position. If I do get the promotion, some lucky kid is going to get my starter position – it could be any one of the three of you."

Moxie sat up a little straighter. "You figure they'll go with someone who's been on the team for a while, right?" A smile played on the corner of her lips. Of the three of them, she'd been on the team the longest.

Big shook his head. "Naw, they'll want someone who can scare the bejesus out of the other team. A starter's gotta be the best there is."

Richie shrugged. "Experience is important, as is power. I think what they're looking for, though, is the ultimate player – someone experiences but still fresh, powerful but still skillful…someone who knows the game inside out, but still has heart. If I get the Captain position, I'll be working with Leigh to pick out the new starter."

Moxie grinned, scooching a little closer to Richie. It became obvious to Bridey then what was going on – Moxie was sleeping with Richie in the hopes that it would help her get the starter position. It seemed such a cheap way to earn your fame, but who knew? Maybe it was just the way things worked in this town.

Bridey got up to grab herself another drink, and take a gander around the room. There weren't as many people here in the VIP section, and a lone pianist serenaded them with his ivory-tickling skills and deep, rich voice. Occasionally he would leap an octave, his voice hitting notes so sweet, Bridey's heart melted a little.

She completely forgot the drink and wandered over to the piano, which stood in a shadowy corner. She wondered how the pianist could even see the keys, but when she approached she realized he was playing with his eyes closed, anyway. A soulful expression graced his face, which was as deep and rich in color as his voice. Bridey set a pale hand against the shiny black on the grand piano. The vibrations of his playing coursed through her arms, making their way throughout her body, marked by the beating of her heart.

It was another moment before he opened his eyes, acknowledging her presence. "Any requests, miss?" He flashed a smile at her, and she noticed that his eyes were a light brown, almost gold.

"No, no." Bridey glanced back at Big, Richie and Moxie, who were too absorbed in their conversation to notice that she had left. "I wouldn't want to interrupt this song – it's beautiful. What is it? I don't think I've heard it before."

The man smiled dreamily. "Oh, just a little number I made up. I grew up on a farm, out in the countryside – there was a creek near my house, and I used to go play down there. They say that two lovers used to meet there – he was a hearder of llamas, like my family, and she lived on the opposite side of the creek, with her family who grew corn. They would meet for secret love trysts, but one night she fell into the creek and smashed her head off a rock. Her body sank to the bottom and her lover dove in, searching in the dark water for her. He drown trying to find her, and now it's said that both of their ghosts haunt that creek."

Bridey leaned against the piano, sucking in a deep breath. "That's so beautiful. Did you ever see the ghosts?"

He shook his head. "Not that I know of. I once saw a white-blue, spooky sort of light, but I didn't know what it was. Could've been a ghost, could've been the wind – who knows? It is a beautiful story though." He hummed a few more bars, and looked back up at her.

"So, you play here often?" She slipped her chin into her hand, and watched his long, thin fingers gliding effortlessly over the bright keys.

"Every weekend. I get off work around 8:30 on Fridays and Saturdays, so it gives me just enough time to jet here for 9 o' clock. Some weekdays I'll play at Plasma, or other clubs around town, but I like this place, too. Lots of interesting people, and the pay ain't bad, either." He switched songs then, gliding into a concerto that sounded vaguely familiar to Bridey's untrained ears.

"Do you play for the orchestra?" She queried. A glance at Big and the others revealed that they were now on the dance floor. Moxie and Richie were dancing together, and Big was with some blonde Bridey didn't quite recognize. She was surprised to realize that this didn't bother her at all.

"Naw, not yet. I play bass in the quartet. I've wanted to be part of the orchestra for a while. What I'd really love to do is be a composer, but I'm not there yet. And, you know, I'm still young – plenty of years to go before I'm even in the orchestra, probably." He smiled at her. "So, I don't think I've seen you around in town. Are you new here?"

Bridey played with her hair, a smile playing in her red, plump lips. "Yeah. My sister and I have been here less than two months. She's working in the film industry as Matthew Hamming's personal assistant, and I'm on the Llamas as the newest rookie."

His eyebrows shot up. "Impressive. If you're looking to live the dream – this is the town to do it in. Just beware – not everything is as it seems." His gold eyes glinted, and she frowned, unsure of his meaning.

"Bridey? C'mon, we're all getting into the hot tub." Big came up and took hold of her elbow, pulling her toward himself and the others.

She waved a quick goodbye to the pianist. She wanted to know more – his name, his life, the music that moved him so much. She feared alienation from her teammates, though, especially if success on the team depended on Richie's good opinion of her. So, she followed them to the hot tub, which was screened away from the rest of the room, and when she realized that they would be skinny dipping, she ordered another drink to calm her nerves, and did what she had to do to succeed, hoping the whole time that the soulful pianist couldn't see.


	4. Doubts

**A/N:** I admit, this chapter is quite brief…I've been super-busy with end-of-the-semester prep, so it was all I could manage to squeeze out.

"Devon came by." Bridey chirped to Colleen, who had just walked through the door. It was the middle of a Wednesday, one of the only days that Bridey didn't have a game or practice. Colleen was supposed to have had the day off due to Matthew's dental appointment, but she'd been gone when Bridey woke up, and was now slipping in through the door at 3:15,

"_Shoot._" Colleen smacked herself in the forehead. "I completely forgot we had plans. Matthew needed some dry cleaning done, and-"

Bridey put her magazine down and looked at Colleen, her face flat. "I know, I know, and you're his trained monkey, so you had to." She smiled. "In any case, Devon bought me the lunch he owed you – why don't you date him again? He's so _nice._"

The mention of lunch made Colleen's stomach rumble, and she headed to the kitchenette. "Oh, I don't know – maybe because he's gay?" She opened the fridge, which was nearly bare – with their newly busy lifestyles, they rarely ate in the apartment, let alone grocery shopped.

"I'm pretty sure he's bi-sexual." Bridey answered, flicking on the television. "He was _totally _looking at my boobs." She found a daytime court show and lingered there.

"He was probably just debating if they were real or not." Colleen pulled a frozen meal from the freezer and began heating it. She didn't know why, but she really hated the idea of Devon flirting with Bridey.

Bridey looked down at her nearly-flat chest. "You're kidding, right? Why would I _chose _to do this to myself?" Complaining about the size of her breasts was a favorite past time, especially when her sister had such a mountainous chest to compare with. Though, she would admit when pressed that her smaller chest made soccer easier – imagine trying to run with two soccer balls bouncing on her chest!

Colleen shrugged. "I'm just saying, Devon is most definitely gay. And even if he wasn't he's my friend, not dating material. And I'm not here to snag a man anyway."

Bridey rolled her eyes. "I _know, _I _know_. But boys are fun. You should do that, you know…have fun. It would blow your _mind, _how fun fun can be."

Colleen glared at her sister. "Bridey, you're a piece of work. What, you want me to be like you, out at all hours of the night, coming home sloppy drunk with hickies on my shoulders?"

Bridey shuddered. The night she'd met the pianist had been both wonderful and terrible. His bright smile, those golden eyes that seemed to glow at her, his smooth voice. She was enchanted, though she hadn't even gotten his name. At the same time, she'd had to drink herself drunk to deal with the hot tub, the way both Big and Richie's hands had been sliding all over her. Moxie allowed it, not only permissive, but participating, kissing both men by turn. But Bridey couldn't seem to get over how slimey their hands felt on her thighs, her back, her shoulders. She allowed it, shaking and nervous, her stomach all in knots, but even know she regretted it. Was _this _what she had to do, to succeed? Was she really willing to sell herself?

There had to be another way. The next morning, though she could only remember glimpses of the night before, she'd been unable to look at herself in the mirror. She did have a hickey on her shoulder, but she couldn't remember whose lips had put it there, or how she had felt about receiving it. What good would getting the starter position do for her, if she couldn't respect herself? And yet, how would she get the position if Richie decided these things, and Richie was sleeping with Moxie? Would he really chose her over Moxie? Would she even want the position, if she had to lower herself like that to get it?

"Bridey? Earth to Bridey." Colleen waved a hand in front of her sister's eyes.

Bridey snapped too. "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking." Colleen had come into the living area somewhere during her reverie, and now sat next to her on the couch. She'd also managed to usurp the remote control, somehow.

Colleen laughed. "Yeah, thinking? You looked like you were contemplating the meaning of the universe,"

Bridey shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Something like that."


End file.
